She Doesn't Dance
by Cover Me This
Summary: Gambit spies one of his friends Dancing. Remy's POV


She Doesn't Dance

Remy LeBeau stopped to wonder what exactly he was doing out here tonight. Still behind the wheel of his parked car, he mindlessly fished a cigarette from his pack while gazing at the neon lights in front of him. With a held breath, he stepped out of the car and looked around.

Lighting the cigarette with his fingertip, he surveyed the area. The parking lot was filled mainly with pick-up trucks. There were a few older model cars in the mix as well; nothing like the places he usually frequented. The music was loud and distinctly country, even from outside. Growing up in the South, Remy recognized an old-fashioned barn dance when he saw one.

Taking one last drag of courage before flicking his cigarette away, Remy walked past the gathering of smokers and through the old wooden door. The crowd was heavy tonight, most people dressed in cowboy hats and flannel shirts. One couple in particular caught his attention. With a sigh, he slid through the crowd and sat down at the end of the bar, ordering the strongest bourbon whiskey he could get.

_She was in the middle of an empty dance floor  
Wrapped up in a tall dark stranger's arms_

_They didn't see me slip in through the shadows  
And sit down at the end of the bar  
_

The amber liquid was indeed strong. Remy savored the nut and vanilla flavors of the wheaten drink. His eyes kept moving across the room to the couple in front of the band. Remy was not a jealous man by nature, but something about those two shook him to the core.

They had always been the best of friends. Even she would admit that Remy knew her better than anyone ever had. He simply understood her, inside and out. He knew she had been hiding something from him for a couple weeks. Following her to a dive like this one, seeing who she met there solidified his suspicious.

He sat for a moment just watching the couple, holding each other close and reveling in the feel of a warm, willing body. Remy shook his head and ordered another drink. He had always been the comforting man in her life.

_She was kissin' him all over  
The way she never kissed me  
I knew it was her in a instant  
But I knew it couldn't be_

Taking another beverage and tipping the bartender, Remy saw that man's gaze fall past his shoulder. He humored the man with a brief look back, knowing exactly what he would find there. Masking his emotions, he caught the bartender's eye who nodded with a smile. Remy understood that it was rare in this day to be witness to people that were so happy that everything around them melted away. He just didn't want it to be _them_.

_The bartender said can you believe it  
Man some guys have all the luck  
But in a cold old world so full of pain and heartache  
It's good to see somebody so in love_

It was beginning to feel like a mild throb in his head and chest. Behind sad eyes, a deep fire burned within him as he drained the bar of a bottle of bourbon. Remy wanted her to be happy with every fiber of his being, but not with _him_.

She was his 'Stormy,' the grounding force in his life. She was "class" embodied. Beautiful, intelligent, proper; he loved her unconditionally. He always had and always would. Tonight though, she was falling in love with another man. The woman he knew would never be caught in a hole like this. She preferred bright city lights and fancy dining; violins and carriage rides though the park. Always elegantly dressed with her long white hair tied to frame her light mocha face, she was not the woman you picked up in at a honky-tonk.

_She doesn't dance  
And she hates dark smoky places  
She doesn't own any fancy high heel shoes  
Or short sexy dresses  
Her hair would be up  
The way that I love  
Never so down and crazy  
Believe me I know my baby  
And she doesn't dance  
_

Almost. Just before last call he almost went to her. He wanted to cut in, to whisk her away to remind her that he was the man she could trust. He knew that things would not be the same now. He had let her stray right into the arms of another man. Remy also knew that Logan was no stranger at seducing women into his wild ways.

With one last swallow, a hand run through his hair and a smile ready to set on his handsome face, Remy stood to head towards the couple on the floor. Turning from his barstool, he suddenly realized they had moved. Scanning the room quickly, he caught the sight of her walking out the door, Logan's hand wrapped possessively around her waist.

Dejection was the only emotion he could muster at that moment and he scolded himself for it. Rationalizing, he smiled at a few of the women who looked his way as he stood. They were just friends, he knew he should be happy for her. Saving face, he reached behind himself, tapping the bar for one more round.

_When they walked out together  
I just sat there all alone  
I thought God I hate that woman  
But I love the one at home_

Remy swallowed his next drink, trying to dismiss the images of Ororo and Logan that were in his head. All he could see was her delicate skin under _his_ rough, thick fingers; those two were complete opposites and Remy felt his skin crawl thinking about it.

Never one to go running off with his tail between his legs, Remy took up his barstool again. With the 'happy couple' gone, people went back to their normal musings. Immediately Remy noted the attention he was receiving from wandering glances. Any other night, it would have brought out the Cajun charmer in him. Tonight however, it all simply dissolved back into seeing his only source of true happiness, leaving with another man.

_It's like a bad movie  
That's lasted too long  
It's all about her  
But it has to be wrong_

_She doesn't dance_

_lyrics from mark mcguinn_


End file.
